


hoping to hit you somewhere vital

by grace13star



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Basically, Character Death, Gen, Resurrection, but like in minecraft terms, wilbur comes back to life and murks dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:29:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28867047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grace13star/pseuds/grace13star
Summary: Being dead is hard to describe. It’s a lot of contradicting feelings and emotions, some of which are impossible to describe with words. It’s darkness, but it’s also light, and it’s pain but it’s the most peaceful thing you’ve ever experienced.In contrast, living is so much easier to explain.ORWilbur is revived, gets a gun, and goes feral
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 8
Kudos: 358





	hoping to hit you somewhere vital

**Author's Note:**

> i am,,, in pain
> 
> uhhh so this is basically just what I want from tomorrow. please let wilbur be revived, please philza minecraft, i'm on my hands and knees. please let protective big brother wilbur soot show up tomorrow please, i will cry, this is a threat
> 
> anyways, i hope you enjoy this! <3

Being dead is hard to describe. It’s a lot of contradicting feelings and emotions, some of which are impossible to describe with words. It’s darkness, but it’s also light, and it’s pain but it’s the most peaceful thing you’ve ever experienced. 

In contrast, living is so much easier to explain. 

As air fills his lungs for the first time in so long, he revels in the movement. The buzzing feeling that lingers after the use of a Totem dies away, and he feels the sun on his skin, the wind in his hair. The ground is solid underneath his feet, a feeling he’d never noticed before. He takes a step forwards, and his legs fold underneath him, sending him tumbling to the ground. His face meets the stone underneath him, but even the pain from that sends tingles up his spine and he grins, ecstatic. 

His senses come back to him slowly- touch is first, followed by sight, and then sound. The process of coming back from the dead is not an easy one. He’s extremely tired, and everything around him looks as if it’s moving in slow motion. Or maybe that’s just him. 

He catches a glimpse of a green hat and grey wings, before he falls into darkness once more. 

He wakes up and remembers his name. 

When he had been dead, he’d tried to distance himself from the name, tried to forget everything associated with it. That person had made mistakes, and he hadn’t wanted to be tied to those mistakes.

But he had made those mistakes, and there was no getting around that. 

This time, Wilbur Soot remembers.

The first thing he remembers is Tommy. 

His little brother, the one who’s been by his side since the beginning, since before the beginning. His right hand man. A once loud and joy-filled boy who’s been beaten down too many times, who lashes out at everyone because he’s been hurt one too many time. 

He remembers Tommy, and he cries. 

He remembers Dream, and he seethes. 

Wilbur recalls that he once was a slow-burning fuse, slow to anger. He preferred to use words over violence, to talk things out before turning it into a fight. 

Now, no words come to mind. 

Phil comes in the room, and Wilbur knows he should be angry at his father, but right now all he can feel is burning hatred for one man. He’ll deal with the rest later. 

The “rest” is a long list, sadly. 

Phil is saying something, but Wilbur cuts him off. He asks where Tommy is, where Dream is. One is more important than the other, but one location will be enough. 

Phil tells him about the compass, the signs, and the ultimatum. Phil tells him about the suicide mission Tommy is going on. 

Wilbur is out of the door before he even knows where he’s going. He steals Phil’s sword from where it’s resting against the wall, and remembers that this is the blade that killed him. 

One good thing about being able to feel again is that he can tell when he stops feeling, when it all goes numb. 

He finds them in front of the prison, it’s blackstone walls creating a foreboding atmosphere. It’s a sunny day, but the shadow it casts seems to black out the sky. He feels a chill run up his spine, but he keeps marching onwards. 

Dream is holding the discs over a fire. He’s talking, probably some gloating speech about how interesting everything is and how much he likes manipulating children for fun or some shit. His stupid smiley face mask only serves to increase Wilbur’s rage. 

Ranboo is standing to the side, looking conflicted. He’s closer to Dream, but every time he looks in Tommy and Tubbo’s direction, guilt flashes in his mismatches eyes. 

Tommy is supporting Tubbo, who’s got a gash on his leg. It’s bleeding heavily, and Tubbo’s face is getting paler by the second. Judging by the blood on Dream’s blade, he’s the one who struck the blow. 

Tubbo may not be Wilbur’s brother, but he is his brother’s best friend. Hurting him hurts Tommy, and if there is one thing Wilbur hates, it’s people who hurt Tommy. 

And the prick that did it is standing right there. 

He strides right up to the man, ignoring the gasps and confused questions behind him. He’ll deal with them in a second. 

Dream tilts his head. “Wilbur? How are you-”

Wilbur cuts him off with a right-hook to the face. 

Dream’s head snaps to the side, and stays there, bowed. 

Wilbur holds a hand out to Tommy. “Give me my gun,” he says. 

Tommy doesn’t even question it, just fumbles the crossbow off of his back, and into Wilbur’s waiting hand. 

The familiar weight of Chekov’s Gun rests in his palms perfectly. He’s always been better at the bow than the sword, he thinks, as he aims it directly in the middle of Dream’s mask. 

“I can forgive some things,” Wilbur says. “But you’ve gone too far.”

Dream doesn’t make any moves to stop him. The smiley face just keeps staring ominously. 

He pulls the trigger. 

**_(Dream was killed by WilburSoot using [Chekov’s Gun])_ **


End file.
